Play The Game Again
by Spoon
Summary: Yuki Eiri is a man living a grey life. But stepping into a whore-house, with a fleeting meeting with one boy is about to turn his grey world into one unkown passionate color...
1. Tag You're It!

It's been forever and I haven't updated my other story because I was busy doing this one – and I'm sure this may result in my hanging but I really wanted to do a long chapter and finish it. I have been distracted recently with trying to get into a specific college and also my graphics tablet arrived [whom I have named John]. I'm sure you'd all enjoy Shuichi being a whore so without further delay [most of you probably skipped this introduction anyway].  
  
Stand Disclaimers Apply: Characters from Gravitation are copyright Maki Murakami.  
  
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Play The Game Again  
  
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I never thought I'd end up in this place...well actually I've been here a few times when Tohma demanded I see him. But this time was different. This time I was a paying customer. Actually that's not true, too. Tohma was "treating" me. I could've thought up a thousand different things I'd preferred but everyone knew that the only thing Seguchi Tohma was prepared to offer his friends was either a cup of tea or session with one of his...employees.  
  
I'm abruptly pulled from my thoughts when the doors to the office to my left were opened and a man in a black suit, a security guard probably, was dragging a middle-aged man backwards out of the room. The brown suit he wore was torn along the seam of his right arm that looked as though it had been fraying for quite a long time. The ends of his trousers were coated in some dark liquid, which at first I thought could've been mud. However as he stumbled for his footing with the guard forcing him backwards, his shoes, also covered with the liquid, left a bright streak of red across the polished floor.  
  
Blood. It was blood, nothing too shocking as it's expected from this place now and then. Every once in a while you'd get the client who gets too excited or angry, either way it ends up with the same consequences. Someone gets hurt.  
  
The man in brown began frantically yelling something, I wasn't really paying attention, but it sounded desperate. I was looking at the random pattern of the blood the guy had made. There was quite a lot of it -enough to stain his trousers to above the ankles.  
  
Then the "president" himself made his appearance, stepping calmly out of the office the men had erupted from, Tohma calmly stood in front of the open doors wearing his black topper hat, a scarlet silk waistcoat, covered by his jacket that was adorned with ostrich feathers. "President" is what everyone inside the building called him but he was also referred to as the better known, and better suited, "Pimp".  
  
My brother-in-law is a pimp. It doesn't really bother me as much as it used to but I know Mika will never get used to it. I think the paranoia is eating away at her. She believes that he's slept, and continues to sleep with, over half his staff. Mind you, he wasn't very convincing when she caught him with Vicky [I think it was Vicky...or was it Cassie...or Monique...] saying that she had dropped one of her contacts inside her underwear but she didn't feel comfortable taking them off so to help her look he took off his underwear to make her feel better. Tohma has never been a good bull- shitter.  
  
The guy's shut up now, Tohma must have subtly threatened him; it's always the scariest when it comes from a delicate-looking guy who smiles all of the time. The guy's leaving on his own now and it looks like the Pimp's finally noticed me.  
  
Smile fixated on his face, Tohma picked up his coat so that the expensive feathers wouldn't get stained by the blood and glanced towards a group of female workers, clicked his fingers, breaking their attention from whatever they were previously focused on...which was apparently me. They were dressed as maids, I'm not sure if they were actually maids or just dressed that way to suit particular clients' tastes, either way they lived to serve their master. He pointed at the bloodstained floor without saying anything and then turned to face me again.  
  
"Eiri-san! I thought you weren't going to show up!"  
  
I ignored his overwhelming friendliness and lit a cancer stick. I looked at the lighter. It was a gift from Ayaka; I tried giving it back to her when I broke everything off but she insisted I kept it. "It was a gift," she had said, holding back tears. The cliché phrase had made a bad taste in the back of my mouth. It was because of things like this that I left. We did everything a normal couple would do - dates, exchanging of presents, meeting parents; but when it came to sex with her, I just couldn't get hard. Every time the situation came up [or didn't as this case would prove], all I could think of was how simple she was. I knew I didn't love her then and that all I was doing was following what she and my family wanted. It wasn't so much empty as...predictable. It was boring. Talking to her was like talking to a random person at a bus station. She'd ask how I was and I'd say fine. Conversations were minimal and light about things such as the weather, the news and the price of cheese. I frequently slept with other women to go against the grain of our relationship. I liked the randomness; it was so undemanding and casual. So when the renowned Tohma heard of our break-up he decided to handle the situation by comforting me with the services of anyone of his...well...bitches. I hated the lighter, itself. It was a dark green with a small rose pattern in one corner. I tried forcing myself to like it before but to be honest I've never been a romantic man which is incredibly ironic, being a romance novelist.  
  
During my thinking Tohma had been berating me about my smoking habits with the same unwavering smile pasted on his face.  
  
"What do you say we go into my office and chat awhile? I'll make us some tea." I declined his offer with a slight shake of my head.  
  
"Don't feel like talking, ne? Well, shall I show you the girls available?" I was about to answer when a man in formal wear with his shirt half un- tucked and pit-stains forming under his arms began to get violent with the male receptionist, who looked nervously towards his boss.  
  
"What the hell do you mean you can't find him?! This is unacceptable! I've been waiting for over 45 minutes for Shindou-kun, what's my wife going to think when I get back so late?!"  
  
Looking at the man flailing his arms in front of the poor youth, frantically trying to grab his collar so that he could make himself feel more important, I sigh in relief. It was like looking at one of the future my selves, one of the possible ways my future could've turned. If I had not realized what a mistake my relationship was with that girl recently, I fear I would've ended up like the desperate man only a few metres away from me, stuck in a hopeless marriage that drove me to visit a whorehouse so much that I remembered all the names of my favourite bitches.  
  
A few other men began joining in with the berating of the youth who by now looked as though he were about ready to quit his job there and then. It was an interesting crowd. Including the first guy there were now four of them complaining? Two of them looked composed and, judging by their Armani suits and expensive leather briefcases, had well paid jobs; these two weren't aggressive in their actions - they just calmly told the assistant that they too had been waiting and asked when this "Shindou" would arrive. The last guy was the oldest, probably in his late 40s. He was getting edgy and every now and then he stroked the hair on the centre of his head which was thinning. Tohma looked at me sympathetically and said he'd be right back. This Shindou guy was working up a bit of a riot.  
  
During this conflict one of the maids [that wasn't now frantically looking for the craved object of lust that the men opposite the counter demanded] was scrubbing furiously at the polished floor trying to wipe away the streaks of dried blood that may well have come from someone she knew.  
  
"Must be a tough job," I say, my cigarette never leaving my lips. Although she was a good few metres away from me she flinched at the sound of my voice as though I had just shouted in her ear. She hesitantly looked up, blushing from ear to ear, her eyes quickly looking away every time they almost came in contact with my own. One could almost feel the burning glares the others, both men and women were giving her.  
  
"Pa-pardon?" she eventually stuttered, her scrubbing slower than previous. I took a long drag of my cigarette before replying, knowing full well that I should just keep my mouth shut.  
  
"Cleaning blood off the floor," I tapped the ashes onto an ashtray on the counter closest to me, "must be tough."  
  
The bitching level of the other staff had rose in volume to the point where you could make out what they were saying.  
  
"How come SHE gets to talk with Yuki Eiri?!"  
  
"Aa~h, I'm so jealous!"  
  
"Arisu, you're MUCH more cuter than her!"  
  
"But you've got a better body, Mayaku!"  
  
"Shut up, you two! I can't hear what they're talkin' about!"  
  
"I think they're talking about Seguchi-sama - I hear he and Yuki-sama are close friends!"  
  
"Uso~~!"  
  
"Kyaa~~! Does that mean Yuki-sama is going to become a member!? I hope I get to have a chance with him, I bet he'd be a God in bed!"  
  
I look at the blood stained floor. Parts where she had yet to scrub were beginning to dry and were turning a brown colour. I'm not looking directly at her but I can see through my field of vision that she had turned a charming shade of beetroot. Perhaps I should just pick this one. Seems cute enough with her black hair reaching her shoulders in little sausage-like curls. I don't look at her face. I don't really care what she looks like as I never look at the face of the person I'm shagging. It's a habit I'm quite happy with. I don't particularly want to remember whom I had sex with, nor do I really want to remember the actual sex. Just as long as it feels good when it happens. Look, she's stop scrubbing now and it's starting to piss me off for some reason.  
  
"Its...not that that bad. It's harder when it gets on the carpets or rugs or clothes. But a small quantity of aqua ammonia helps...or sometimes I use pepsin...pepsin is good for stains...like these..." She was prattling on now. Maybe it was best if I picked someone else. But from what I actually registered to hear I could tell that "stains like these" were definitely quite common. She's talking at a fantastic speed now but still her hand does not move from the spot it was scrubbing. I look at her now; hopefully she'll get the hint that she should shut up. But now I can tell that she wants to shut up, she's embarrassed that she's rambling, but she's also panicking. She can't stop. I knew I shouldn't have said anything. I exhale slowly, but making it clear that this is to keep me from shutting the bint up myself. She's slowing down now. I think has brain has either shut down or is in the process of shutting down as she looks like her face is about to have a seizure, her shoulders pulled together frantically shaking up and down. I brought my forefinger to my lips very slowly and just as slowly she ceased her jittering voice and her dark shifting eyes finally came into contact with my own.  
  
The huddled crowd in the background leaned on each other to prevent themselves from crumbling to the floor in a fit of giggles. Right enough of this. I feel a migraine coming on. I stub the end of my cigarette on the tray and walk over, one hand in pocket; the other now grabs her wrist. Not stopping for her I drag her towards Tohma, her shoes clicking against the ground in a random pattern, trying to match my pace.  
  
The scene before had calmed down somewhat thanks to the President's threatening presence. He sees me approaching, opens his mouth to speak but I get there before him.  
  
"I'll take this one." And I let go of her so she tumbles forward slightly. Quickly she regains her posture in front of her Pimp and keeps her head and eyes low. Feet together, now, turned out slightly. Her gloved hands rest on her apron in front. Tohma is still looking at me with his eyebrows slanted slightly, mouth still wanting to say something. He reminds me of a character I used in one of my novels, a little disappointed at the lack of intimate conversation.  
  
"So ka?" The words dragged out as his face returns to its ever-friendly smile. "How much?" "Eiri, you know this is a gift from-" "Fine. Where can I go" "Ami-san will guide you." So her name is Ami. "First class." He says addressing the girl. "Hai." "Take your time, Eiri, and feel free to come and chat after." I turn around in the direction I've seen other clients head with their pieces of flesh. Tohma is now practically radiating disappointment. What a sad bastard – says I, Yuki Eiri...  
  
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Naked now, she is. We're both on the emperor sized bed. Screw the champagne. Screw the foreplay. Just screw. She delicately places her arms around my back. She's shaking a little. I hope that spectacle before hasn't made her feel awkward. Not for the fact that she should feel embarrassed, only that this could end up being really crap sex.  
  
She reaches down undoing the front. She looks up for the briefest of moments and I see her face again. Same dark shifting eyes. I stop her hand instantly. I'm no longer hard. Was I ever hard? I don't recall how I got to this room. I sit on the edge of that huge bed. I don't know if my eyes are open or not but I can see her face in front of me. And yet her voice is coming from behind.  
  
"Get out."  
  
I get up and walk to the joint bathroom, briefly wondering how big this place is. Holding the sides of the porcelain sink with both hands I look up at myself through hunched shoulders. My already cold hands felt more cold transfer from the sink under my hands. Although its late winter, there is still a small amount of snow falling but the temperature inside this building is always soaring. Be it from the expensive heating system running throughout this place or the heat from the burning bodies of both clients and those rent-able, I'm not too sure. For as long as I've known I've always been a cold person - physically and principally.  
  
I step into the shower [there's also a Jacuzzi available in this first class room]. Letting the scolding hot water beat against my back I think about nothing and just enjoy the ruthless heat which I can only seem to gain from these kind of showers.  
  
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My skin feels a little numb and raw as I towel down and grab one of the black dressing gowns from the bathroom closet. There is a loud slam just as I put the garment on. I reluctantly step out of the bathroom silently praying that Tohma wouldn't give me an unnecessary lecture about "moving on" or some crap that wasn't relevant to my nature. I leave the bathroom, bracing myself for Tohma's ever-smiling face. Leaning back against the door was someone I hadn't seen before. He was panting, and between each heavy breathe he drew let a sequence of giggles roll out o his mouth. He was dressed in a thin grey jumper far too large for his small frame and hung off his shoulder revealing light bronze skin along the top right of his chest. I can't tell if he's wearing any shorts or underwear because of the long shirt. The only other things visible were a pair of white trainer socks. His head was hung low and his chest rose and fell frantically in unison with the panting.  
  
I was in a little shock from this but it soon turned to annoyance. How dare he just burst in here? Who the hell is this? And other legitimate questions for this kind of scene. This had better be not another "present" from Tohma; I'm really not in the mood for any more fun and games, particularly with a teenage boy. Just as I was prepared to question him on his indecent debut he looked up through pink bangs that needed trimming. He had round eyes like a doll. The colour a shade of blue like the sky at dusk, and long black eyelashes from which the blue peaked. He closes his mouth a little and pressed his weight on his back and slid down on the floor, sighing simultaneously. I frown, shocking myself a little for not having done so until now. This rent-boy had better not get comfortable for his own good. I'm not in the mood for expelling this invader and demoting him with brutal dialect he has never heard of with his breeding let alone his generation.  
  
"I suggest jumping in front of a car." I need a cigarette. I think I left my packet over...here.  
  
"What?" He says. I've already got the cigarette between my lips. He's looking at me through the gap between his bent knees. I think he looks like a jewel over there; small, shining and possibly as expensive. I can imagine people wearing him like that. I light up and then throw that eyesore of a lighter in the direction of the bed without looking.  
  
"To commit suicide. There are many ways," I say, inhaling the sweet contents into my lungs. I sit down on the single chair in the room and look at the youngster. His mouth is in a small 'o', with pink lips with glitter covering them pursed into a pout. He slowly stands up, bending forward to wipe his legs with the sleeve ends of his jumper. The large neckband of the thin material fell forward with his movements, baring his small chest and baby pink nipples. He then stood upright and crossed one leg over the other.  
  
With his brow furrowed he said quite confidently, "I'd never kill myself; especially not now. My life's at it's peak, you know?" He turned his head a little up, looking at the door behind him and then faced me again. His sparkling lips curved into a small smile, making a tiny dimple appear on his left cheek. "Just playing a little game..."  
  
"Well then I don't recommend staying here if you don't want to." I tap the ashes into the tin tray. Even though Tohma has built this place to almost perfection with it's velvet red drapes, it's golden shag carpet and huge ceiling. Even with all this he still leaves out the old metal ashtrays.  
  
"But I do want to! I love playing games!" He took a few steps toward me, leaning forward again while a giggle ruptured from his glitter-coated lips.  
  
"I mean," I say, taking another drag, "if you don't want to die." He looks at me, still leaning forward. This must be one of his seducing methods or whatnot, what a cheap French harlot. I glare at him, making it clear that he couldn't entice me with whatever he was doing. Receiving my glare, his eyes moved away from my own, however they lingered still on my body. Whatever patience I had before was wearing away. He makes no move to leave, in fact he begins to walk toward me. The hem of his grey top slid around his thighs every time he shifted one leg in front of the other. I hadn't noticed it before but a thin red line followed just above the hem of the grey apparel. Looking up at his face now, his eyes are once again fixed on mine. Shit. I hope he didn't see me looking, and more importantly I hope he doesn't think I want to play with him. He smiles, and pulls the hem up a little at the sides so that more flesh is revealed, but still not enough to be able to tell if he's wearing anything beneath the item of clothing. God, what a fucking tease. I tear my eyes away from his skin, cursing inwardly at looking without resistance.  
  
He's standing directly in front of me now, chewing on the inside joint of his thumb. I think it's about time to put this boy in his place. I stub out the cigarette, the ashes having accumulated on it from negligence. I push the arms of the chair to rise but the boy pushes me down. I'm positively growling now but he acts before I can. He sits on my knees, his hands still on my chest. He's incredibly light. I could push him off me in a second. But I don't. He pulls his weight forward making my thighs burn where he had travelled. His hands move from my chest, across to my shoulders and then travel down the length of my arms. Finally his hands rest upon my own. His hands are hot, but I realise almost instantly that the heat is coming from myself. He grabs my hands and pulls them behind him, at the same time pushing himself forward to rest his head on my chest. He sharply presses my hands against his naked ass. When he removes his hands from their place on top of mine, my own stay firmly planted against his peach. Although I cannot see it from my position, from the way my palms mould around the curves I can tell it's a lovely round rear. A small hand rubs against the thick cloth of my robe that separates his digits from my erection. In all honesty, I hadn't expected myself to get hard, but right now I couldn't think of the reasons. I divide my gown with my left hand and before returning it to that sweet mound I lift his grey top forward and stare hungrily at the flesh of his back and ass.  
  
Since when did I become this animal? Not one hour had passed since I banished that maid-girl, I can't remember her name, from this room.  
  
He doesn't even bother to stroke my once my gown is parted, but instead scoops his head low and takes me in his mouth. My head jerks back against the rim of the chair I sit in. When was the last time someone sucked me off? Definitely not Ayaka. Some random woman l slept with? Would that girl have done it too?  
  
Instantly the image of her face appears in my head and for that moment all of the raw passion I was feeling switched off and inside I was panicking. I jerk my head forward and look beneath me hoping to whatever God I don't see her face. Every face I remember makes me sick. I don't need the face! Just the body!  
  
I look down and straight into the eyes of that boy. He sucks one more time while pulling his head of my length and sits upright on my lap. His pink hair is dishevelled where my hands have been. I hadn't even registered moving them. The glitter from his lips had somehow managed to stay un- smudged. God, I want to ruin those tidy lips. I reached forward and grabbed his hard dick squeezing roughly. He moaned loudly in a fantastic pitch, grabbing my shoulders and squeezing his thighs simultaneously. His head was now rested against my own, sweet pants parting from those star-lit lips caressing my ears. With my other hand I grab his head of hair and pulled it back so that I could take his lips into my own. Before our lips even make contact, his tongue is already lapping at my own and I feverishly push is head forward to deepen the kiss. He pushes his hungry cock further into my grip and grinds himself desperately, his hips crushing against my waist.  
  
I release his violated lips and member only to grab his rear with both hands yet again. This time I manipulate his body so that he's kneeling and take his flushing pink cock into my mouth. He cries out and doubles over my shoulders, plunging himself further into my throat. I take him all the way to the hilt and he bites down hard on my shoulder, since when the gown was discarded I don't recall but the coarse pain felt delicious. I suck hard on his tight ball sack that's ready any time to explode. It's all too intense to breathe calmly through my nose so I come up for air. Instantly pulling the boy's face toward mine. One gulp of sweet oxygen and our lips are sealed over each other's. He exquisitely pushes his cock against my own and I return the favour by grinding my meat back. I can hear my pulse beating in my ears like the sound of a fist knocking on a door.  
  
I grab the boy's shoulders at the sides and push him back and look sternly at him. He's inches away from my face, panting again. I look up to the door in front of me and the knocking commences once more.  
  
I stand up and he slides of my lap and bounces towards the large oak door. I think he's about to answer it but instead he leans against the wall to the left of it. I stand there for a moment with what I'm sure is a dumbfounded look on my face. He then holds his hand out and gestures to the door. I regain my composure and grab the bathrobe which lay forgotten on the seat of the chair. Once dressed I opened the door angrily (whether it was because of the noise or the interruption I couldn't care less).  
  
A man close to my age stood before me with his head bowed.  
  
"My apologies for the disturbance Yuki-sama." He lifted his head and forced an awkward smile at me. "It's just that a member of staff has gone missing- I mean an important member of staff. If you've seen or heard anyone suspicious we'd be grateful for the help..."  
  
I kept my glare on him and I could almost see the beads of sweat on his forehead. In my line of vision I could see the boy in the corner of my eye holding the hem of his jumper in his mouth so that his belly was revealed.  
  
"...You've got a lot of guts interrupting my stay here." The man's smile faltered a little but fixed back into place like he was obviously trained to do.  
  
"I'm terribly sorry, but it was Seguchi-sama's orders to enquire the customers on this level..." I closed my eyes and sighed. Trust Tohma to test my patience. I open my eyes and the youth is pressing the head of his dick with his forefinger, rubbing in small circles.  
  
"Describe this 'important member of staff.'" The man's face relaxed into a more natural smile.  
  
"Well he's got pink hair," 'Well,' I think 'you don't need any more information than that,' "about 5'5", wearing a bit of make up and little else." He pauses waiting for an answer. I'm still looking blankly at the guy inwardly debating whether or not I should turn the boy in. On one hand it would mean getting out of Tohma's cage and retiring home to my familiar surroundings. But on the other hand I could have some more fun with this kid. It's been quite a while since I've felt so ...horny, and I had definitely enjoyed his company – my rock hard dick could tell you that. I focus on the guy's face again and I can see the small wrinkle between his eyebrows and its enough reason to annoy me.  
  
I'm about to send the guy away when the tart himself appears right in front of me, opening the door wide with a cigarette between his sugary lips. The glitter has been smeared across one of his cheeks. The underling of Tohma at the door looks a bit bewildered as the pink one places his hands either side of the doorframe, pushing his ass backwards into my still throbbing cock.  
  
"I'm a bit busy right now Colin," says my pink. He releases one hand to light his cancer stick. What a filthy habit. I feel the creases round my mouth as a smile the first smile in a long, long while. 'Colin' now frowns and hunches his shoulders. He's about to say something but breathes in smoke from the smaller boy's cigarette and chokes on his words. With one hand holding the stick, he releases his other hand and reaches above to my face. He looks up at me and smiles a cheeky smile. "Ne? Yu~ki..." My hips involuntarily jerk forward when my own name departs from those delicious lips. Somewhere in the distance I hear a rumbling sound similar to thunder but it could be the passion coiling in my loins. He turns completely around and holds his position; our bodies completely sealed together, his dick pressing into my thigh and my own digging into his stomach. Despite the raw feeling flowing through my body, I held his cheek like he held my own and let my lips descend onto his. My eyes were open and I saw his widen slightly at the impossibly gentle kiss I gave him. When I withdrew, his cheeks were tinted pink and he was suppressing a grin with the hand he held his cigarette with. He looked down only to look back up at me coyly. "Well, Yuki," he said, still holding back the Cheshire cat grin, "It's been incredibly fun..." The thundering grew louder and Colin moved back into the corridor that stretched outside the luxury bedchambers. "...but I'm afraid we're gonna have to pause this game." I try not to let the confusion and/or disappointment show on my face as he leans close to my ear and licks it. Never before had anyone been so bold as to do that and I found myself clutching my ear from the feeling I got.  
  
A group of about five or six people appeared all of a sudden in front of me and latched onto the boy. The tingling sensation had swept across my face and I felt myself blushing.  
  
"Shuichi-kun, where have you been?!" exclaims one of the monkeys. Shuichi blows me a kiss and lets them drag him away, and in his hand is a green lighter.  
  
I'm left standing in the doorway, still holding my ear, still blushing and still possessing a hard on.  
  
Slowly I step back inside my room and close the door. I'm recovering my senses bit by bit. I touch my lips with my fingertips. Why did I just do all that? With a child? A boy? How could I? I look at my fingertips and there's glitter on them. I walk towards the bathroom, there should be a mirror there, but I stop halfway and look at the giant bed.  
  
The lighter's gone. I can't help but smile again. I start getting dressed. So much for my last memory of Ayaka.  
  
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"Why do you have this Shu-chan?" The stranger wraps his arms around the boy, taking his small hand into his own. "You don't smoke, do you?" He says licking Shuichi's ear, pushing him down so that he sat on his lap. "It's a terrible habit" He whispers, taking the rose-patterned lighter out of the youth's hand and placing it on the sideboard next to the bed. Shuichi lies down on the bed, twisted so that his face was looking up but his stomach was pressed on the bed.  
  
"Yeah," he sighs, closing his eyelids slightly, his hands touching his slim thighs. His hair slides gently across his face and from underneath he stares at the lighter next to him. "but you can really get addicted to it."  
  
++To Be Continued++  
  
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Question is should I continue it? Would you prefer I updated my other story? Am I wasting my time? Did you enjoy it? Please review. Thanking you very kindly xD.  
  
~spoon out 


	2. Ring around the Roses

Sorry for the delay but I can finally relax a bit more now. I got into the college I applied for! Whoo! Puraa~ise Jaaysus! So I should have more time on this fic. I had planned on starting an online comic but I think I'll wait until I've got a bit more time...so maybe around may when I finish my course. The comic is yaoi of course, called 'Anaphylactic Shock'. I'll explain more about it at the beginning of the next chapter, which should be out pretty soon seeing how short this one is compared to this first chapter. Anyway – the fic must go on!  
  
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Play the Game Again  
  
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I've been in this room so many times; the vast view of the city from the floor to ceiling window no longer takes my breath away. Indeed when I first began my contract here I had been taken back numerous times by the intimidating view behind those executive blinds. Now it seems more of a rich painting that someone of my status could never comprehend. Not because it was beautiful or untouchable or anything, but I know that that fantastic view is a complete contradiction to the content of this city. Once you step out of this tall building, it's always around you, every building in the city, in fact, closes the view beyond it. It's like being in a building itself. These days I'm more fascinated with this toy on the large desk towards the end of this office. It's a set of small metal balls suspended on strings on a metal frame. You lift one ball on the end and when you let go, it'll hit the whole set but only the ball on at the opposite end will swing away. I could watch this for ages, but I don't get a chance because the President's just walked in.  
  
"Shindou-kun, if you would like to sit there is appropriate furniture other than my desk," he says, beaming a winner's smile at me. Despite the long, slim off-white couches near the wall opposite the desk, the desk was always pretty comfy. I could sit, with one leg folded beneath me and hand the other over the end, like I was now, and I'd be sure I wouldn't get the same feeling with anything else here. Usually, clients sit on one of those couches while opposite would sit the President and his PA, and together they would negotiate business. However I was not here for business, obviously, so I sat in the large, dark red leather chair directly in front of the desk, opposite the President's huge black one. I threw my weight into the chair as I sat down and grimaced immediately. Seguchi would be wearing nothing but pink, frilly knickers at a church before Aizawa Taki is ever gentle in bed. A goofy smile spreads across my face at the thought. Heh, heh...knickers...  
  
Seguchi takes his place in front of those long buildings, gracefully seating himself opposite me. I'm still smiling like a clown when he loses his composure a little as he pinches the bridge of his nose with a velvet- gloved hand. "Shindou-kun, must you test my tolerance for you're childish actions?" I frowned at this. I don't like being called a kid, and Seguchi knows this. "For years, now I've put up with you're behavior, not because I like you, mind, but because you've got a client list as long as the stairway to heaven. Shindou I don't need you disappearing let alone during rush hour. You know you shall have to be punished for this." This wasn't a question but I knew that Seguchi didn't hate me as much as he made out. "I've got a very important client who needs someone to pose as his son for a small private party." I could see the main problem right before my eyes, mainly because my bangs needed trimming.  
  
"I'm not dying my hair."  
  
"You'll have to dye it." I sank further into my chair so that everything I looked at was sitting on my chest like an island. I whined a little under my breathe, though not actually forming any words, but in a second Seguchi had jumped up from his chair like he'd been hit by lightning, and his face looked like thunder... "Shindou-kun, you are pushing my patience. This is a punishment and you will accept the conditions." Seguchi had never yelled at me all the time I had been here, just because he will never lose his composure. However this is the closest he's got to cracking that professional mask o his. I didn't say anything. Even I I did say anything other than 'OK' I might get myself in deeper shit. Seguchi looked at me, holding the glare. The light from the city was behind him making his figure dark, with a yellow glow framing his body, making him look like a demi-god before the land, living in his small heaven above the mortal world. And in this picture I was a peon, so I looked away accordingly. After a tense silence Seguchi sighed and told me I could dye my hair with a temporary colour, which would work, so I smiled slightly to let him know that I was ok with it. After all the temporary dye wouldn't effect my natural colour that makes me famous.  
  
"So when do I start?" I said, now grinning like a madman. See, his punishment wasn't that bad.  
  
"Tomorrow evening. There's a suit in wardrobe M2. Do you want me to get someone to help you with the dye?" When Seguchi said 'tomorrow', he really meant today. Its 4:20 am and the evening is almost over. I tend to sleep in the day because of work but rumour has it that the demi-god himself never sleeps.  
  
"No that's ok. I've got someone in mind." I roll off the chair and bounce towards the double doors. If Seguchi has something to say he'd better say it now, 'coz as soon as my hand is on that door knob-  
  
"Shindou-kun," he said in a tone that wasn't familiar with him. I 'hmm-ed?' a reply. "What exactly were you doing all night?" I opened the door and swung around before exiting. I winked at his curious look.  
  
"Playing a game."  
  
+++++  
  
I've got my head leaning over the bath tub, covering my eyes with my hands while the rest of the dye is washed out. With my hands cupping my eyebrows to stop the water from going into my eyes, all I can see is the brownish red water collecting at the plughole. Its like this for a while until the water runs clean and I get the 'Ok from above as a towel is dumped on my head. I wipe my face as I rise and suddenly I'm picked up from behind and carried into another room.  
  
"I can walk, you know? It's not like I just had major surgery – and even then I'd have to be treated delicately!"  
  
I'm dumped onto a double bed with beige sheets, the towel from my head flopping next to me.  
  
"I just wanted to be the first one to see you like this with your new hair." I reminded him that it was temporary and that you wouldn't be able to see the colour properly until it was dry. "You know," he climbed on the bed. "I know a way to dry you hair without even touching it." He said this while eyeing up my thighs up to where they met my shorts.  
  
"Fucking won't dry it – I'll sweat a load and it'll only get wetter!"  
  
"Do you enjoy it that much?" he said with a playful smirk.  
  
"You know – I don't need a fuck-buddy. I can get laid whenever I want and you know it." I said smugly.  
  
"Ah, but you know you like it best with me." He grinned confidently; I regret ever telling him that. I pouted and thought for a minute and then I remembered something nice.  
  
"Actually, I may have found I new number one." I said, opening my legs, teasing him. He lay down in front of me, placing his head in the space between my thighs and raised his eyebrows sceptically. "Mmm," I closed my eyes. "It was so hot...so good...I can barely describe it – like the heat was so intense I felt like I was in a volcano but I was the one going to erupt after sleeping for a thousand years..." I let my head hand backwards, my shoulders hunched together.  
  
"Shuu, you've erupted plenty of times in one night," he said, licking my inner thigh while tugging down on my shorts from the waistband. I sighed heavily, probably out of frustration more than anything else.  
  
"But you don't understand!" I let my weight fall back all at once and fell on the satin sheets, causing them to bunch and creases where my weight was focused. "The guy's a complete arrogant bastard," more creased appeared where my fuck-buddy's elbows pushing in either side of my head. So you like arrogant bastards he tried telling me, but I told him it wasn't that. "There's something about this guy that the more he glares the more mighty fine he looks."  
  
"Am I not mighty fine?" he said, sitting up to pull off his sweater, revealing, indeed, a gorgeous body.  
  
"But it's different, Hiro – you're really nice!" He pushed hard against my open groin, forcing his erection to wake up my own.  
  
"So its bad...to be the good guy?" he whispered into my ear, knowing exactly how to turn me on after years fucking since we were in middle school. Sex with Hiro has always been nice. In fact it's been fantastic. He always gives me what I wasn't so I suppose he really is my fuck-buddy rather than the other way round. He knows what I do for a living and rarely demands anything, which is one of the things that realistically separate him from my clients. The most important thing is though that he's my friend. We've always helped each other through thick and thin, which generally means Hiro helping me. At one point I thought I was in love with Hiro, but he explained what I was feeling to me. He really understands me the most, maybe even more than I understand myself.  
  
"So who will you be today, Shindou Shuchi?" Hiro began unbuttoning his jeans while looking straight at me through long red bangs.  
  
"This evening," I stated clearly and shook my hair so it all fell out of my face, "I shall be the honourable," I parted my thighs wider, "respected," wrapped my legs around his hips when he's lowered his trousers, "and VERY well known," pulled his weight back on top of me so our faces were incredibly close and Hiro practically growled as his erection pressed against my hole, "...Sakuma Ryuichi."  
  
+++  
  
tbc  
  
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Sorry, no Yuki in this chapter. But I'm sure you can tell which other character/s are going to be involved.  
  
So do you like? If you like, please review! If you don't, please give me advice! xD  
  
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	3. Peak around the Curtain

_First of all a massive thank you for the reviews everyone! Because of this I've prepared for many more chapter of this story! 'Wow – A plot?' you must be thinking. Yup, this story will be having many ups and downs, but which will outweigh the other...?  
  
In 10 days time I will be free of this establishment – huzzah for the holidays! And I shall be free until September – Don't think about it Lora! I know, Brain!! But this will hopefully mean more chapter more frequently for my beloved audience! Woo!  
  
And now – the show must go oooon!_

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**Play The Game Again**

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Chapter 3

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After going through a list of new applicants, sorting through Shindou's list of complaints and compliments and pile of cheques which he gets as tips from customers, I finally get a bit of time to myself. It amazes me that that boy can get this much from tips alone, god knows the fortune he'd make if only he treated all of his customers like he does with the ones he favours. This is Shindou's problem. When he doesn't like a client, he won't hide it, and he'll even go out of his way to make a scene.  
  
Shindou's behaviour as always caused trouble for me and my business. It seems to me that he's never grown up from being a child. Apparently losing 5 years off your life can do that to you, Noriko had once told me. Still it only adds to my problems which all appear to be accumulating right now.  
  
I sigh and take off my topper, placing it neatly on the edge of my desk and pick up the pile of papers in its place. These were Shindou's records of clients, behaviour, tips and other things concerning his job here. Every tip and bonus he gets I have given to Noriko on his request. I don't remember why, I haven't spoken to her in a couple of years, since I started having problems within my marriage. I tap the pile on the desk and place it in front of me, picking up the first page. There's also a client feedback record on each page, most of which are filled with compliments and requests. But they'll always be a few, a handful really. No I'm lying. It's about 50/50. Clients Shindou won't and refuses to get along with. I need to teach Shindou about customer service again. He needs to know how to give everyone the same treatment and not be picky or only focus on one.  
  
These words remind me, yet again of my marriage and I set the piece of paper back down on its thick pile again. I push the pile away and lean with my arms folded on the desk, my head resting on my right forearm. I wonder if I've been the cause of Eiri's depression. He knows better than anyone that I'm not loyal to his sister. He knows because I told him so. At the time I had planned for him to realize that I cared more for him than the woman I married. I had planned for him to fall in love with me but he didn't. And I wouldn't push him, lest I push him away from me; the person I care most about in the world.  
  
Still it worried me that Eiri refused that girl. I wanted to console him but he had changed so much in six years that I wasn't sure which the best way now. Perhaps it would be better to let him choose what he wants to do but I also couldn't bring myself to leave him be. It would be nice if he could stay around at least.  
  
For a while I think of nothing, and its bliss.  
  
Ten minutes of bliss pass before I push myself back up in my chair and rub my temples. I press the intercom button and tell my PA to cover for me for a while. He obviously wants to ask something but bites his tongue and answers a nervously loud Yes, Shachou!  
  
I pull my top drawer out where a small revolver sits (custom for every top drawer desk) and several packets of tranquillisers. I open up a fresh packet of rope and swallow a couple without water. I pull a level next to my armchair and the back of the chair drops down and I welcome the unconscious area of sleep.

* * *

All eyes were on me as I sipped on my wine, feeling my lips sparkling red as I lift the glass away. Although I was in a place where it was unlikely anyone knew of NG's Shuichi, I had apparently fitted the image of Ryuichi like a glove. Still, while I gave off an air of fame and importance I still have a seductive atmosphere around me, it's like I can't stop the pheromones that seemed to escape every pore of my skin. The guests around us finally lifted their drinks.  
  
"Mmm! This wine is a symphony of flavour!" declared one man, the apples of his cheeks already glowing red from the warm room. The large floor to ceiling windows were closed, long Prussian blue velvet curtains framing the arched shape. There were rows of chandeliers lighting every corner of the room leaving no shadows that turned the pale faces in the room a buttercup yellow. It's not particularly rare to find these places in Japan. I've learnt since my time away from here that this country is extreme. It's incredibly traditional but at the same time modern, proud of its roots but at the same time welcomes western influences. I've been invited to many different places including great expensive buildings like this one, so it's not too surprising for me. The only thing is that this gathering is almost totally full of foreigners, which makes me feel slightly anxious.  
  
I'm standing in a crowd of foreigners as they all laugh haughtily at my "father's" jokes. I had spent a large chunk of my youth in England so I could thankfully understand what they were saying, and I wouldn't really be able to play the part of Ryuichi very well if I couldn't, seeing as he was raised in America. All these people at the party introduced themselves respectively but with confidence, which quite frankly intimidated me a little. It's been years since I've had to face such a large number of English.  
  
"Isn't that right, Ryuichi?"  
  
Geh, I wasn't listening...and apparently it showed.  
  
"He's a lot prettier than I thought he'd be, isn't he? Look how cute he looks when he's blushing" One man commented, earning mumbling agreements from other men and women. "He looks a lot more manly on TV, one might almost think he was a girl!" He and the others laughed, one woman ungracefully spilling white wine down her lips and on her white fur wrap, panicking after for a napkin. I hoped Hiro hadn't missed any part of my hair earlier.  
  
K leaned down and put a hand on my shoulder, still huffing from laughing at this man's joke. "I assure you, Will, my boy's one hundred percent male!" I could feel the pressure of the man's fingers on my skin beneath the black blazer of my suit; the suit K had picked out for me, the only flash of colour being the purple open collared shirt I wore underneath all the black. Such dull colours this Ryuichi-guy wears.  
  
"One hundred percent? So high a figure?" The same guy chuckled, "Will", setting his glass down to cover his mouth as he, too, almost dribbled. I could feel the heat in my face. I wasn't feeling shy or embarrassed, I just did not like this guy disrespecting me or trying to humiliate me, which was the impression I was getting. Still I remembered my mission briefing from Seguchi. 'Ryuichi is practically your clone, if it wasn't for the sharp tongue and attitude.' So I bit my tongue and had to bear with just grinning like a madman.  
  
"I'm just joking, Ryuichi." Will said in his thick American accent, mispronouncing the 'r', and he put his hand on my other shoulder, and again I could feel the weight of his massive hand on my frame. Once again I felt a little intimidated. He was a tall man so I had to crane my neck to look at his face since he was so close to me and the lights from the chandeliers behind him all of a sudden seemed to burn into my eyes.  
  
"But still," he said leaning down so that his head blocked the blazing light above, replacing it with a dark silhouette of a face that seemed to be growing bigger, "you look like a pretty Japanese schoolgirl." Somewhere in the back of my head I remembered similar words being said. A face, I had to focus on his face! But I was panicking now, his black face still empty and from the edges of my vision small dashing lights appeared and disappeared. "You really don't resemble Claude at all." I barely registered those words, as they became a low hum in my ears and the lights turned into fireflies approaching the man's face, except they were turning into thicker things. They were turning into maggots and they were eating at the man's face! Chunks of meat and maggots were falling from his face onto mine! And I heard a scream piercing my head and I felt numb as I slipped into unconsciousness, familiar with the feeling. The last thing I recall was the sound of the voice. It sounded familiar but at the same time alien to me, like it was far away and belonged to someone else.

Dark wooden boards in front of my eyes rose as my eyelashes as I gradually found my senses in a cold sweat. My focus sharpened then blurred as I tried to get up only to be pushed down by K and his magnum  
  
"Don't force yourself, boy" he spoke friendlily as he pushed the magnum against my head, "let it all come naturally."  
  
"I find it hard to focus with a gun against my forehead," I managed to squeak. The gun clicked as I heard the bullet load. "Perhaps this would help." And it did. Wide awake, sitting upright on a long jade green couch I made it clear that I was stable and he lowered the gun.  
  
"Sorry about Will, Shindou. He can be a bit vindictive subconsciously." I was pretty sure that it was intended though. I brushed out the creases in my shirt and for the first time realised that I was drenched in my own cool sweat.  
  
"How long have I been out?" I touched the bare flesh on the top of my chest; it was clammy to touch. "Only about five minutes. Its really something that," the long blonde haired man said grinning with his hands on his hips, "You've got amazing stamina." I said nothing as I held my neck with my left hand, looking forward at the opposite arm of the couch. K fits in perfectly in this party. His hair is usually tied back high but today its tied low making him look like an aristocrat rather than a psychopath. He's wearing a cobalt blue shirt that matches with demented piercing eyes with a black suit that fits so comfortable around his body that it makes you wonder where he keeps all his guns.  
  
"But you know, you really do look like him, Ryuichi, that it, especially with the brown hair now," he said leaning back grinning with his hand behind his head. "When you were dropped off earlier I was about to tell you to yell at you and send you back!" he laughed loudly then looked around the room. We were in a small room that didn't seem to serve any purpose with the 3 jade couches along the west side of the room and a large oak table in the centre. I could tell we were a fair distance away from the main hall where we last were because the voices were still wild with chatter but very quiet.  
  
"Why would you have sent Ryuichi back?" I said finally, causing K to look sharply back at me in mid-glare as if he forgot it was me who was speaking. "I thought Ryuichi was unavailable. Isn't that why I'm posing as him?"  
  
There was a pause in K's face, his mouth opened slightly in confusion. I suspect that he thought I knew whatever real reason was obviously top secret, being a main character in this drama and all. He smiled an awkward sort of smile; one used in some sort of confession as he told me what was going on.  
  
Apparently rumours were being spread that Ryuichi wasn't K's blood son, despite K's wife being Japanese Ryuichi seemed to bear no resemblance to either her nor K. Ryuichi was staying in a hotel for the time being, K worrying that the media has been waiting to take a bite out of them for a while and there's always people who'd like to make a bigger story. So Ryuichi was being safe guarded. Ryuichi was a famous solo artist in America and K was his father and manager. This sort of breaking news could damage the reputation of both men.  
  
I looked at K, into those piercing eyes. I was still holding my neck; the skin beneath it was now cold and pasty. "Can I ask you one thing, K?" He was looking past me, at the arm of the couch, the one I had been leaning on. "I don't mind not knowing the detail but," he still wasn't looking, "are the rumours true? Is Ryuichi your blood son?" He finally looked at me, his eyes now soft. "No," he answered. I thought for a moment. Fuck! Did he mean that the rumours weren't true or that Ryuichi wasn't his son?? I must be easy to read. "He's not my son." I tried to look as indifferent as possible. K smiled despite his previous words. This is when I realised there was a gun pressed against my belly. "You won't tell anyone?" He pressed harder, still bearing that winning American grin. I shook my head furiously and he put the gun back in his Mary Poppins pocket. He stood upright and offered a hand out to me. "Are you feeling up to it?"  
  
I looked at his outstretched hand for an instant then brought my left hand in front of me and looked at that too. It was streaked with pale stains along the palm. I saw K looking at my neck but ignored it.  
  
"I'm just gonna go freshen up." I smiled and K told me there was a restroom just opposite this one, one that people wouldn't go to since it was a journey from the main hall. I gave him another smile in thanks, grabbed my blazer and went ahead.  
  
The restroom was a mix of emerald green tiles, jade painted stalls, white porcelain and gold taps. The customer toilets in NG were similar to these except with a red theme. I walked across the room to the sink furthest away from the door, looked in the mirror and cringed. I turned on the taps and washed my neck clean, wiping away the paste that had formed there. From my inside pocket I took out a small bottle of foundation and a blender and I covered my neck with the formula. After a few minutes blending, I step back and check how I look. My hair is messed forward so I dampen my fingered and push it backwards out of my face and eyes. I lean forward again and check if anything is visible on my skin.  
  
The door swings open and I ignore K's presence, leaning towards the mirror. The counter is massive so I have to stand on my toes to get this close, leaning across the jade marble. I hear those footsteps stop in the middle of the room and I figure it's about time we go. I relax back and notice a few creases at the top of my shirt. What a bugger. I turn around and Yuki is standing there, facing the mirror but looking at me. His mouth is closed but his eye's betray him, the whites more visible than usual showing a look of surprise. I really couldn't move for a moment. Yuki regained his composure and walked towards the sink turning the faucet on. I feel like I've been hit in the stomach. What was that? Did that mighty fine man I played with a night ago just ignore me? No ones ever had a taste and hadn't wanted more! Instead I found myself admiring him in his dark grey suit with his black shirt un-tucked and his matching tie pulled loose. He really belonged to the crowd in this building, I wonder if he's American too, though he didn't have an accent. Of course compared to those other 'gentlemen' Yuki seemed to stand out, almost as if he was untouchable.  
  
The man had the most amazing hands I've ever seen or felt. They were big but not rough and remembering them pressing along my body made me want to cross my legs. They were like a lion's paws that covered so much area of my obviously small body, and felt as though they could crush me if he tried. I rubbed my sweating palms onto the black covering my thighs. I checked in the mirror one more fleeting time to check I was 'presentable' and when I saw my reflection it daunted on me why he didn't recognise me. I was Sakuma Ryuichi tonight. Still I walked over to him, thinking no harm of playing another game.  
  
"Ano..." I spoke, dragging out the sound of each letter. I reached for his arm and allowed my small fingers to hold onto the silk of his shirt, his blazer discarded on the counter. I could feel his muscles beneath the delicate fabric briefly stoking it as I pulled my hand down the fabric to latch onto the material that bunched at his elbow. I felt those muscles tense momentarily at the touch and he turned to look down at me, glaring as fiercely as he had with our first meeting. My hand was still latched onto his shirt and his eyes grew narrower when he looked at it. I, too, broke eye contact and stared at my hand. He looked really hot when he was glaring and I had to try and stop that stirring in my hypersensitive lions.  
  
I let go, feeling the silk between my fingers one last time and pivoted. I turned my head to see him staring blankly at my back. "Could you tell me," I said, pulling town the tail of my shirt over my ass, and catching him steal a quick glance at that region, "if I have any creases in my shirt?"  
  
For a moment all was still. My hands were still holding the hem of my shirt. Yuki was still glaring at my back. The only noise came from the high- pitched drips of water falling from the taps I had just used.  
  
Yuki was the first to move. He put his hands in his trouser pockets, sighed and turned away from me all in one smooth action. Then he spoke. His creamy honey-toned voice filling my ears and I thanked whatever Gods were watching us that he couldn't see the front of me. "Its full of them," he stated, about to pick up his jacket, "Sakuma-kun."  
  
Since he wasn't facing me he couldn't see the silent shock I held on my face. Of course! How stupid can I be? I almost laughed at the realisation. "Could you brush them out for me, please?" I said in my most sincere voice, remembering my position. He didn't even glance at me as he said, "Why don't you just put on your jacket?" He picked up his own, wiping off whatever water had made it onto the piece. I pouted for a second, scrambling ideas in my head. "But!" I said a little too loudly. He slowly looked at me, no emotions showing, though if any it would be 'unimpressed'. "But it's too hot in that place." I could feel the pink in my face - the shame from losing my composure. He turned his body now, and leant against the counter, waiting for me to speak again. I turned, as well, to face him, grateful for the room around my groin. "Can't you feel it?" I made my voice sound raspier then usual. I held the collar of my shirt and fanned it against my skin (the right side of course). "There's so much heat," I lowered my eyelids, looking down towards Yuki's thighs, wanting to crawl upon them once again, "from all those bodies."  
  
Another wave of silence fell over the room. Yuki finally moved. He picked up his jacket and put it on, shaking it over his shoulders. "You have to cope with these things, Sakuma-kun." He sounded so patronising that it made my eye twitch. He reached into the inside pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He placed it in his mouth and fumbled about in his pockets, sighing, clearly irritated.  
  
I smiled broadly and leant up to Yuki, pressing my groin into his thighs suddenly. His eyes widened in shock, and his cigarette almost fell from his mouth. "I'll try, Yuki." I said looking up at him, my head reaching his chest and I heard the erratic beating there. I held out the green lighter in my hand and lit his cancer-stick before his mouth could gape any wider. I then pushed myself away and walked towards the exit of the emerald room.

* * *

What the hell was that?  
  
Was that Sakuma Ryuichi? He bore an incredible resemblance to that Shuichi brat. I had head he would be attending but I never expected him to be so young. But was it really him? There were rumours in the air that I couldn't ignore now. Not since he practically molested me there. I keep my expression as blank as humanely possible in this situation.  
  
I turn sharply to where he was walking, in my puzzled state almost missing the hand he was waving behind him, a hand that was holding a forest green lighter between his delicate fingers. His fingers were deliberately placed at the top of the lighter so that the tiny rose pattern was visible. I really couldn't say a god damned thing right then but I knew my mouth was open. By the time I gathered whom this boy really was he had already left and I couldn't help but laugh. Who would've thought we would've seen each other again so soon?

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**_To be continued_**

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_Anyone catch on the hints of the past? The future? The- well...the present is a little more clear...  
  
**Spoon Out.**_


	4. Oranges and Lemons

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Every now and then I get reviews sent to my email or favourite adds. So I thought I'd go back and have a day with this. I don't think my writing is as good as it used to be if I'm honest. But I did have a story in mind. Thanks for all the support.

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Walking back to the massive ballroom I barely registered that I was moving at all. My eyes were open but they weren't looking at a thing as my mind was currently replaying the recent events over in my head. Yes, that had in fact been Shuichi. The same Shuichi who haunted my last night with scandalous scenes feeding my every thought. I had completely forgotten about my writing and spent that night shaking hands with the governor of love… But now the same kid haunts me now in my conscious hours! For a long time I think I had just imagined him there- a writers imagination is very vivid. Then I notice the still almost spent cigarette barely clutching onto a dry spot on my bottom lip. The picture of Shuichi's delicate fingers holding my stolen lighter sweeps through my thoughts and I feel a delicious invisible squeeze in my groin. I stop walking and lean my back against the corridor wall. I raise my head and close my eyes as I whisper in my mind 'It was real.' I'm tempted to turn back to the toilets and relieve myself of this pressure; god knows I should how rare its been lately for me to be turned on. But then I stop myself, and open my eyes in a half-glare at the ceiling. Why should I have to do such a thing by myself when the star himself was in the same building posing as the star 'Sakuma Ryuichi''.

I reach the main hall where everyone was gathered, sipping expensive wines, wearing expensive furs, and smoking expensive cigars. I hated attending these sorts of gatherings with a passion but recently it is unavoidable. The people here only enjoy talking about their selves and how accomplished and rich they are each with at least one hired woman on their arm. The only time they take the effort to talk about someone other than their selves is to gossip about those who've been recently demoted or shunned in their works. For some reason these people flock at my side when I enter, claiming to know me through some made up acquaintance. I admit, I myself, am a successful man and I take quiet pride in my work only being released when I'm sure it's perfect. Recently I have been in some sort of slump and have been advised to attend these god awful engagements in order to 'trigger' some sort of inspiration. I honestly don't know how anyone could think that such tedious act of involvement could actually motivate a person.

A few of the grips of the women escorts on their customers' arms loosen as they shamelessly stare at me, long painted nails coming up to their bright lips as their eyes gloss over. A silver service waitress seems to magically appear in front of my face holding the tray of drinks deliberately close to her breasts.

"Champagne, Sir?"

I grab a glass as I begin a scan of the room. I pace with my other hand in my trouser pocket, weaving between the social circles, trying to escape the desperate eyeballing from the women. This room is full to the brim of men of high social standing, reflected, it seems, physically as well. And mixed with these tall men are women in heels so high I am surprised they don't all have nosebleeds. How the fuck am I going to find a miniature Japanese man-boy with big eyes, a pretty mouth and an ass that tops any bitch in the room? The air is thick with the expensive heady scents of each human, a mix of musks that change and clash every few seconds. I slow down almost a little too suddenly as I my pride immediately tells me that I don't have to be in such a hurry. I'm a popular man myself and I'd sooner stick my dick in a vice than have anyone see how much I want to see that brat again.

A burst of laughter ruffles beside me and as a woman backs onto me, almost falling out of the little crowd to my right in giggles. I have to crane my arm above my head to avoid spilling my drink like an idiot as she collides with my chest. She turns to face me and jumbled with more laughter manages a word of apology.

"Kathy! Oh god, I'm so sorry! She's a bit....merry..."

A well built back man in a very dark but slightly shimmering blue suit jumps out from the back of the crowd to catch the girl and bring her back into the world again.

He stops to take a long but inquisitive look at me, cocking his head to the side.

"Eiri?"

An old school acquaintance of mine. He's changed quite a bit from what I recall. The tight braids have been replaced with a very short trim that allows his incredible features to stand out; big brown eyes, high cheek bones, and a perfectly square jaw. He was a pretty popular kid back then but that alone couldn't have propelled him into this world of bigwigs. I slowly let my arm fall back into place, making a point of the annoyance.

"Jaaaames, why didn't you tell me you had such a _han_dsome friend", said the broad, boldly stroking down my torso with the comment, her long nails scratching my skin beneath. She swayed forward and he had to stoop to catch her again. His eyes briefly met mine before focusing on his babysitting, an awkward smile flashes in embarrassment. Though drunk, the woman was actually quite modelesque. Years before I would have said she was my type; pale skin, heaving breasts, sharp features that only seem to come on a foreign girl's face. Everything that _he_ was not.

"Oh _gawd_ Kathy, get a hold of yourself!" A bulky Englishman cuts through the crowd in a boisterous voice, dramatically flailing his small chubby hands in the air, his eyes tiny and dark beads with thick eyebrows wet with perspiration raised high above playfully. "The Japanese are a _grace_ful race of people!" He boldly states and then bows theatrically towards me, the light dancing off his egg shaped bald head.

"Everybody! Allow me to introduce Claude Winchester, the son of Ian Winchester, the owner of Winchester Enterprise and Winchester CTC," Sooo many Winchesters, it's so hard to choose which one to care least about. The woman called Kathy leans into me, partly to avoid this insufferable fool's thrashing hand gestures. I look down and she's pressed so close back into me now that I can see her front. She has a small lake of red just above her breasts, it must be a drink rash. Otherwise her skin in flawless and not a freckle in sight despite how much skin she's bearing. Her breathing is normal but her breasts rise and fall such an incredible distance. From where I stand I can see every curve, almost every pore, even the outline of her nipples when I look hard enough. But no one is looking at me looking at her.

"And his absol_ute_ly chaaarming son, the pop prince - Ryuichi Sakama!"

My eyes jump to the scene and I almost hurtle the hussy away, but she sticks solid against me as a familiar face weaves through the people around him. Shuichi's eyelashes flutter as he looks down for footing and then up at the characters looming way above him. He smiles at each person, the reflections of chandeliers light up his dark eyes like a pair of galaxies. His eyes meet mine and then they skim to the women practically straddling me, and then quickly move on to the next person in line, then the next... Huh. That was an unexpected reaction.

"Go on, Ryuichi! Give us a song!" Some guy bellows from the now increasing crowd of people. Shuichi instantly reaches out his small palm to the man. The things those digits can do turns something in my belly.

"500 dollars." He stares the man square in the eyes, and the corner of his lips flick up in a cheeky smile. The crowd roars and the chubby ringleader smacks him on the back a few times earning a wide eyed look from the boy. The crowd begins to move and several people surround him, like animals closing in on their food. I manage to catch his eyes briefly but he doesn't give me anything with them, and then all I see are jacket tails and the fabric of cocktail dresses. I stay still for a moment trying to decipher what he was trying to do. The crowd seems to shrink away but the walls and ceiling move closer. I down my champagne, wishing it was a beer.

"Eric, was it?"

I blink hard and look down. I've got a parasite attached to me. She swivels to press against me, both hands rest on my chest, her breasts now pushed high almost to her chin. She tries to look into my face but her eyes can't seem to focus. If she wasn't holding onto me she'd be on the floor. I take a step back and she drags herself along with me, the uneven clatter of heels follow. One of the thin straps on her dress falls down her shoulder and the front of her dress peels away slightly. She has an amazing figure and I want to fuck her, but at the same time she has no air to her - she makes my skin cold. I feel a little like my old self and, for a moment, it feels good. But not good enough. No matter how much I want to fuck her the need to push her away is stronger. But instead I do nothing. I look past her at the crowd. It seems to have scattered to some degree and James falls out of a section and lunges towards us. He goes to pull her back with some force behind it. She's all over the place and a bit of a whore but I guess he likes her. I mean, why else would he-

***

Widened eyes stare gobsmacked at me. At least half of them are jealous, I've seen the look a billion times, I swear. But these people are only in my peripheral vision. I'm looking at that foreign muck. If I could wish a person dead she'd be in pieces! Who the hell are you? I mean - Who the HELL. ARE. YOU?? I'm so angry I'm near crushing the man's chest. He finally pushes up onto his elbows from the floor but I don't move an inch. I hear a metal tray hit the ground but the low hollow sound seems to go on and on, warping slowly in my hears. On and on it goes. An amazingly low hum, like a sub-woofer, shakes in my ear, then all too quickly everything returns, and it hurts my head.

"-t are you doing?"

I unclench my jaw, the bone aching like I've just given a blow-job to a huge cock. I loosen my grip and run my hand through my hair, casually looking about me but at no one in particular, like this is normal.

"Ryuichi! I'm sorry Mr. Yuki, my son is... a big fan of yours!"

It's not normal.

***

I guess it was all a bit too much for Shuichi. 'What an eccentric,' I think, then laugh inwardly at the irony. He's definitely a charmer, be it pheromones or anything else. He made a good Ryuichi, and when I think about what he did in end to Eiri Yuki, I have to admit there are similarities in their characters, not just their looks alone. Perhaps the world as we know it would fall apart if those two ever met.

I cover his shoulders with the large jacket I was holding and he looks up at me and smiles. The wind is fiercely hard and whips my hair in my face. I can't tell if anybody noticed but I'll have some guys do some follow ups on the guests.

"I'm just gonna have a smoke out here," maybe the cold air will clear my head a bit.

"Wanna light?" he asks, holding up a lighter with flowers on it. He grins widely, the apples of his cheeks pushing his eyes part closed. I try to stifle a chuckle but it comes out as a rather large snort.

"That thing is so uncool!" I shake my head. I take out a pistol and fire out a light for my cigarette, cupping my hand around it to catch the flame.

"Yea, you're right," he says, but still puts it in his inside pocket. He looks ahead, his smile now gone, his eyes now relaxed despite the wind blowing at us. The gale smokes my cigarette faster than I can so I chuck it into the street. I ruffle the boy's hair and push him down into the car. He's got to have one hell of a history, but I can't ask him about all that stuff. I have my own truths I don't want people to know of so I shouldn't pry.

But still, that was a nasty looking scar.

I see him leaving but I can't let him see me. What am I supposed to say? I don't even know what the hell happened.

"Eiri!"

That scared the shit out of me. I peer behind me. Thank fuck. It's James.

"Man, I am SO sorry about Kathy..." He was alone but quite tense.

"You two got a thing going on?" I ask, not really caring for an answer. I watch as the car pulls away slowly from the kerb.

"What?" He sounds shocked but quickly replies, "No! No. Well...I'm sorry. All I know is that I kinda like her. I mean, when I saw her flirting with you I just got so MAD! Not at you! But-"

"It's ok. I get it." Jealousy. I got it.

Once the car has left completely I see a figure close to where the car had been, talking on a mobile. Damn chauffeurs, everybody is leaving so get off the ruddy phone! Japan has turned us into a mobile phone nation. Perhaps one day we'll all give up on regular communication. I step out to tell him my car and to catch him out.

"Yea, he just left....Yeah...Yeah I got pictures." The guy crosses the dark empty road and it's too late before I realise how suspicious he was. Oh well. Guess there's going to be a scandal. Tough luck for the real Sakuma.

Hmmm....jealousy.

To be continued...


End file.
